


I'm Here...

by Widow_Spyder



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, For the first part at least, Getting Back Together, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, John is Tired, John-centric, Light Angst, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Sick Character, Sickfic, This entire fic series is mainly about John, a djinn pretty much, softness ensues as well, this is basically a long getting back together fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-05-02 03:30:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19191031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Widow_Spyder/pseuds/Widow_Spyder
Summary: The team realize they missed a fugitive and have to go back and stop it. But is that all that this is? One last fugitive to capture and then they can finally relax after Neron’s defeat or is it a window of opportunity for one of the lonelier legends?





	1. Tell me

John sat at the round table in the kitchen, grumpily trying to eat the oatmeal laying in front of him. It was early on the waverider by his standards, yet his previously dry throat beckoned him to get out of bed and fulfill his bodies wish for water. No one was up — or making it known that they were up — so it was just him in there. 

That was alright, John wasn’t in the mood for company anyway.

The pounding behind his eyes had grown worse since he forced himself to get up, and he was quickly annoyed by it. 

John had used some pretty powerful spells in the last week. The first spell was the one he used to fry Neron to a crisp and close the hell portal. It left him drained, to say the least. The second spell was the one to bring Nate back to life. After which, John felt more than exhausted but somehow managed to use his last bit of adrenaline to make it back to the waverider. And collapsing right into his bed. 

Adding onto the fact that mere hours before performing said spells, he had just come back from getting tortured in hell; needless to say his body was taking it very well. 

An achy exhaustion feeling had settled over his body. One that he couldn’t get rid of no matter how long he ignored it or slept through it. It wasn’t his first time dealing with this. He called it a magical draining. Using up so much magic at once, especially when the body isn’t ready, is dangerous. Yet he did it anyway. He always seems to do it anyway. 

For some reason, John connected the feeling with the feeling of withdrawal. The sharp ache with the shivering and then suddenly feeling hot and sweaty while your stomach rolled around. All familiar feelings to him. 

Which brought him back to the present situation. 

His bowl of oatmeal was taunting him. He had gotten himself a small bowl, but barely half of the tan sludge was gone.

He tried to finish it, he really did. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not with his stomach doing 360’s in his body. 

Then the rest of the team shuffled into the kitchen, and John lost his appetite for good. 

First, Sara and Sharpie entered, holding hands and smiling with that post-shag glow. Next was the new couple Ray and Nora with Nate and Behrad trailing close behind. Mona and Charlie entered from the other side of the kitchen, arguing about something John was sure he didn’t care about. Then Mick sauntered in which caused a new argument between him and Ava since he had quite obviously conjured something from ’Bridget’s diary again. 

It made John feel sick — well sicker. It wasn’t because of the sudden change in energy or the familiar need to mask himself that made his head spin. It was because of the new increase in _that_ feeling. The grounding, safe feeling that only people with significant others could share with each other. The — _love._

John wasn’t jealous per se that everyone around him had something with someone else. Not at all. 

Nope, he’d rather die than admit, its hurt a little that he has nothing like always. Because he’s John Constantine, and John Constantine can never have a happy ending. 

Though it did annoy him — he could admit that. 

Sara had Ava. - Ray had Nora. - Nate and Behrad had something going on between the two of them. - Mona and Charlie were monster buddies. - And even Mick was writing up his three-boobed alien girlfriend into existence with that damn diary. 

Why couldn’t _he_ ever get a happy ending? Didn’t he deserve one? Hadn’t he done enough? 

Then Ray’s damn cheery as always attitude greeted him and John wanted nothing more than to fall in a hole and retire himself to a month-long coma. But he briefly smiled and nodded, pretending that he was occupied with mixing his oatmeal. The others didn’t have to know he’d actually been mixing his oatmeal for the past 15 minutes already. 

That was enough apparently, because Ray left right after, going back to his new - girlfriend? Partner? Who knows?

Now was his opportunity to escape. No one was paying attention, and all he had to do was slip quietly away and discard his no longer wanted oatmeal. 

He was about to as well until Sara’s voice interrupted him before he even had the time to move. 

“Sleep well, John?” She asked. 

John moved his head to look at her before turning back to face ahead. 

“Peachy,” John muttered, taking a sip of Sara’s orange juice to punctuate his point. Bad idea, as it took all of John’s formidable strength to hide his gag. Turns out the sweetness was not something his body wanted at the moment. 

“Mmhmm.” Sara looked at him weirdly, and John couldn’t blame her for being suspicious. He probably looked a little out place in the room compared to the others; fully dressed and ready for the day while he was in his bathrobe looking like he would rather be dead in a coffin than there. 

All of them, they’re energies bright and clear, looking as if they had a need to celebrate today with pizza parties and alcohol. 

And why wouldn’t they celebrate? Neron was gone, obliterated — _you’re welcome_ — and both Nate and Ray were alive after some pretty close calls — _you’re welcome again._

Of course, he should feel the same way. For once, a multitude of people he was close with got involved in his demon business and — for the main part — didn’t get hurt. They all stayed alive, which was more than John had expected to happen. 

If only he didn’t feel so crappy. 

“John?” Sara interrupted his thoughts yet again. 

“What?”

“I asked if you were finished with your oatmeal. Twice.”

“Oh, yeah, take it.” John pushed the bowl to her and made to stand up. Though he ended up needing to hold onto the table to steady himself as his legs took a bit longer to adjust to his new position. 

If Sara noticed, she didn’t say anything. 

Once John was confident he wasn’t going to fall over, he started walking away from the chaos of the kitchen as Ray tried wrestling the marshmallows out of Charlie’s grabby hands in the background. 

“Try to get some more sleep.” Sara had told him. 

Yeah, he was definitely going to do that.

x-x-x

After John left, Sara went back to the group, just as Charlie managed to stuff all the marshmallows she could into her mouth, leaving Ray to scowl in defeat.

“What was that all about?” Ava asked her, placing her hand on Sara’s. 

“Nothing.” Sara smiled. “I think the spells John did are starting to get to him.”

“Think he’ll be alright?” Ray asked. “I hope Neron didn’t do anything.” Sara smiled. Leave it to Ray to be concerned about the others after he had been the one to be possessed. 

“Leave it Rayge, Johno just needs some time to he’ self,” Charlie spoke up after she finished chewing. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but there seems to be a problem.” Gideon’s voice came over the room. 

Really? Now?! Christ, they barely had time to relax! 

“What is it, Gideon?” Sara asked. 

“It would seem we — missed a fugitive.”

“Come again?” How could they have missed a fugitive? Sara wondered. 

“I am getting another magical fugitive alert coming from 2008, Maryland.”

Immediately everyone in the room gave a collective groan. 

“Come on!” Mick slammed his drink onto the table. 

“Alright,” Sara sighed, “Come on, legends! Just one more creature and then we can relax…”

“Is it always like this?” Mona complained, turning to Charlie. As if she weren’t a new member to the team as well. 

“I really hope not.” Charlie agreed. 

“It is,” Nate answered for them both. “Better get used it.”

Another collective groan as everyone shuffled out of the room. 

“Oh Gideon, can you tell John about this?” Sara asked. 

“Of course, captain.”

“Right,” Sara retook hold of Ava’s hand. “Let’s get back to work.”

x-x-x

John walked down the halls to the bridge at a slow pace.

He had managed to sleep a little more before Gideon woke him up with something about some left behind fugitive they needed to capture. 

John huffed and slowly rose from his bed, taking stock to his body. He felt a bit better, which was good. His head felt a bit clearer, and his stomach wasn’t rolling anymore, so that was nice. He still felt the phantom pain of the hot knife gliding through the skin on his chest from his time in hell, but he could ignore that well enough. So he got dressed and made his way there. 

The others were already there as he suspected and Sara immediately got down to it as he arrived. 

“So according to Gideon, a multitude of people have gone missing in the Garret State forest including a state senators mistress.”

“There’s also a lot of growing magic in the area that’s on the move.”

“On the move?” Mona asked. 

“It was, quite surprisingly, caught on a surveillance camera, in one of the nearby towns.” Ray giggled. “Gideon?” 

“Yes, Dr. Palmer. Here is the image.”

A grainy image appeared on Gideon’s monitor with what looked like a bald man with a lot of face tattoos. John and Nora recognized them as magic symbols. A lot of them were protection spells, but others were symbols used to amplify their magic power. 

“Looks like a djinn. Nasty bastards.” 

“Oh yeah, had one of those guys in the cage…” Charlie remembered. “Poor chaps, the lot of them, who get caught under their magic.” 

“Djinn’s put their victims into hypnotic trances. It’s like a coma except you’re put into a dreamscape of your desired fantasy.” John took out a cigarette, despite Sara’s glare.

A djinn’s purpose wasn’t only to force its victims into dream states but to also erase specific memories to make it impossible for the victim to sense that something was wrong. Which made it impossible for the victim to escape unless someone else were to happen by and know what to do. Unlikely for a lot. 

“Can they be revived?” Sara asked.

“Sometimes, if you’ve got the right people and bloody good luck. Then maybe.”

“Maybe?” 

“Once the victim is catatonic, the djinn will feed off its life force and milk its blood for future use.” John continued to explain. 

Lighting the cigarette, John breathed in the familiar scent before erupting into coughs causing everyone to look at him. That definitely wasn’t a good sign. Ignore it, John told himself, as his eyes stung.

Once the fit subsided, John threw the cig onto the floor with a face of disgust, playing it off as if it was the fault of the cigarette. Because it was in fact, the cigs fault, not his lack of self-care…

He was fine, and he could certainly well do the mission without a lot of hiccups. 

“Depends on — if we’re too late or not.” John finally answered, drawing in deep breathes. 

“Let’s just hope we aren’t. Gideon, plot a course.”

And that was that. No commented on it, which was a complete relief to John. Though he did receive a face from Sara and Ray, everyone went to their respective seat and strapped in. 

Ignoring the weird looks, he too, went about the mission.

x-x-x

To say the mission had been entirely screwed up would be an understatement though not a surprise. They were legends, after all, nothing went according to plan.

After two hours of searching in the cold forest, they finally found an old mine hidden behind some bushes. Then they decided to split up, with Ava, Charlie, Nate, and Behrad staying behind on the ship, while he, Mick, Sara, Mona, and Ray went to search the mines. Eventually, they all split up too, as Mona’s wolfie scent could only get them so far. 

John had gone alone, as the odd one out of the even groups. He was glad that he was alone. The cold from their two-hour stroll had taken its toll on him, and it was getting harder for him to hide the shivers that racked his body.

He wanted nothing more than to get out of this cold, dusty mine and back into his room on the waverider. But he couldn’t there was djinn to catch which meant he had to be on high alert. 

That’s when he heard a crash nearby. 

Running towards the source, John found a bigger area where Mick had apparently gotten himself stuck under a bunch of coal blocks — with the djinn headed right towards him. 

“Oi wanker!” John yelled, immediately getting the ’djinn’s attention. “Yeah you smell the magic on me, don’t you? Why don’t you leave the mutt alone, huh?”

John could hear the offended grunt from behind the djinn as Mick struggled to get up. 

Hands suddenly lunged towards him with a fierce determination, which made John have to step back and move out of the way. Now there were pros and cons of his brilliant plan. The pro was that he got the ’djinn’s attention away from a defenseless Mick. The con was that he now was the center of the ’djinn’s attention and the damn thing kept lunging for him. 

With John running around in circles trying to avoid getting touched, it also made it increasingly impossible to recite the counterspell he had prepared.

What’s worse was that the achy feeling was back, which was making it harder for him to avoid the ’djinn’s oncoming hands reaching for him. Perhaps he should’ve sat this one out, John thought as he felt his body fatigue from the exertion. It was hard to ignore as a glimmer of panic started to rise in his chest. Black spots were inking his vision, which was never a good sign according to his conscious. 

He couldn’t pass out now. Not here. Not with this wankstain trying to get him. 

But the black spots kept dancing in his vision, and the fatigue grew with earnest. Which was how he somehow managed to trip over his own foot and fall backward landing hard on his ass. He didn’t have to worry about getting up though as a cold, clammy hand wrapped around his throat and threw him back into a wall a second later. 

John’s head spun as it collided with the hardwood behind him, though he paid more attention to the hand trying to cut off his air supply. He could feel the waves of magic flowing into his already weak form and swore he saw a smirk on the ’djinn’s face from how easy it was to subdue him. 

“Damn bastard!” John thought, at the same time that Mick yelled the same thing, hitting the djinn over the head with a brick. The djinn collapsed immediately, letting go of John’s neck as he too fell forward into Mick. But it was too late. 

**Fight It!**

Fight what? What was there to fight, when all he wanted to do was sleep?

He could feel himself being lowered to his knees as he leaned his full weight on whatever was keeping him up. 

**Fight IT!**

Bits of reality caught up to him, fast. The djinn, shit, it got him. 

Crap! No matter what, he couldn’t fall asleep. Otherwise, he’d be in some real trouble.

It was incredibly challenging to do though as waves of magic compelled him under into the bottomless pit of blissful unconsciousness. 

“Dammit, Weasel!” A voice, Mick’s, John determined, came from somewhere to the side of him. 

He tried looking at him, turning his head towards the way the noise came from. He couldn’t see, though. Were his eyes open? John was pretty sure they were. 

Arms were holding him up and whatever he was lying on, was warm and comfortable, though he wasn’t sure why he felt a heartbeat coming from it. 

NO damnit! He was with Mick, don’t forget!

Even unconscious, the ’djinn’s magic was still working. 

He felt bits of memories disappear as his eyes — that had actually been open — slipped close. 

**FIGHT IT**

But he couldn’t, because he was already gone...


	2. What is love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With John trapped in his most desired fantasy world, Sara must go inside his mind to "wake" him up. But will it really be that easy?

John woke with a start. A panicked and sudden start that had him clambering to get out of whatever was trapping his legs and move away from the danger. It took a few minutes for his brain to register what was going on and where he was. 

Wasn’t he in danger? 

Well yes, he would be in danger of soiling his clothes if he didn’t get to a sink soon. Finally getting his legs free from the blanket around him, John took the familiar route to the bathroom and threw up. He gagged as he felt the bile rise in his throat and expel whatever was in his stomach into the sink. 

After he knew there was nothing left, John sank to the floor, his legs weak and his whole body shaking with cold. 

Everything felt out of place, but as he looked at his surroundings, a wave of nostalgia hit. This was his old bathroom in New Orleans. 

How the hell did he get here? John frantically searched his memory for the answer but came up with nothing. His memories seemed distorted and grey. 

Wasn’t he… doing something else… with other people? 

John jumped when a knock, sudden and loud came from the closed door next to him. 

He wasn’t alone. So then who was-? 

“Johnny?” 

“Des?”

“Are you ok? Can I come in?”

“Ye-yeah, ’m fine.” John slowly rose to his feet, keeping hold of the counter and opened the door. 

There he was, tall and handsome and everything John knew he needed. 

Before he had time to think, John launched himself into Des’s arms, hugging him tightly. 

For some reason, it felt like it had been forever since he last saw him. The feeling of unbearable loneliness had once again rooted itself into John’s body. Though for whatever reason, John didn’t know why. 

“Hey, you feeling better now?” 

“Much better, luv.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear it.” Des softly kissed the top of John’s head. “Must have been some nightmare.” 

A nightmare…

It made sense, this wasn’t the first time a nightmare woke him up and had him running to the bathroom, feeling sicker than a dog. 

But why did some part of him doubt that it was, in fact, a nightmare? Flashes of images raced through John’s head. Brief memories of demons, puppets, a unicorn, a cat and James Taylor, all fading away until John couldn’t remember what he was thinking about. 

“Yeah — I guess, one hell of a dream.” John relaxed, feeling tired once again. 

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Stay.” John looked up into Des’s brown eyes. “With me, please don’t leave.”

“Oh, I would never leave you behind, Johnny…” Des smiled, and John felt a wave of affection and relief flood into him. 

“Come on, let’s get back into bed, ok?”

“Ok.”

It was as simple as that. They both went back to bed and fell asleep to the warmth radiating from each other’s bodies. A sense of comfort lulling them into pleasant dreams.

x-x-x

Sara sat in the chair; she dragged into the medbay as she watched John sleep. They were able to bring John back to the waverider after he passed out in Mick’s arms. That was hours ago. Gideon was able to patch up John’s injuries and reassure the team that he was stable; just in a deep sleep.

Sara was the only one left in the medbay, keeping vigil of the fallen warlock. 

Mick was the first to leave, muttering something about needing a strong drink after he carried John onto the ship. Charlie followed with Behrad and Mona trailing behind them. Ray went with Nora to the library to find something helpful in John’s books, and Nate stayed behind talking to Sara about the history of djinn’s. Sara tuned out most of it, just silently nodding, never moving her line of vision away from the exorcist. After a while, Nate got the message and left the medbay, leaving Sara alone with a still unconscious John. 

The only sound in the room was the steady beeping of the heart rate monitor. The beeping was calming yet also frustratingly annoying. Any minute she expected it to suddenly stop or for it to rapidly increase, but it stayed the same steady beat. It was a reassurance that John was alive. Not dead. His heart was beating. He was breathing. He would be ok. 

Well… Mostly ok. His injuries would heal in a few days according to Gideon, but Sara was more concerned about the coma side of things. John hadn’t told them how to snap people of the djinn’s magic before he had gotten attacked. 

This left Nora and Ray scrambling to find something in his books to break the spell. 

Would he wake up on his own? Did they have to wait until John’s heart stopped and then revive him? 

No one knew. Which left an uncomfortable edge in the air of the ship. 

At least they wouldn’t have to worry about the life force and blood stealing part. The djinn was inside the glass cage in the waverider’s dungeon, and John was safe and sound in the waverider’s medbay. Gideon’s watchful eye watching him 24/7; just to be sure. 

Sara sighed and leaned further back into her chair. She could call Ava, who had returned to the time bureau to take care of something but couldn’t find the energy to. 

John was a bastard, through and through. Everyone that had ever met him knew that. But there was the exception of a few selected people who could see past that. 

Past the wall of smugness and dramatics, there was another side of the warlock. Something Sara and only a few others could see. Vulnerability, mixed with the desperation to save everyone around him. To not let the heartache of losing someone close to him, happen again. 

But it did. It was a recurring pattern that Sara noticed with him. After a while, it was easier to see but also just as easy to dismiss because of the walls John put up. 

He was good at lying and manipulating; throwing people off topic and getting them to leave him alone. You had to really know John Constantine to understand why he does what he does. Why he doesn’t quit the occult life that only seems to bring him pain. 

Sara was one of the people that were able to connect with him. They actually had a lot in common. 

_They survived._

They dealt with guilt and dark forces, somehow managing to die and come back to life. 

Sometimes they talked about it, late at night, when neither of them could sleep. They told each other stories of the things they’d seen, and both of them would listen to one another while dutifully refilling their whiskey glasses. 

Did she feel responsible for what happened on the mission? 

Sara couldn’t help but think that she should’ve told John -- no ordered him -- to stay on the ship after that coughing fit. He was obviously not feeling well, but he went along anyway, and now he was unconscious with no sign of waking up. 

“It’s not your fault, Sara.” A voice behind her interrupted her thoughts. 

Ava was leaning in the doorway, a soft look on her face... She approached Sara’s chair and wrapped her arms around Sara’s shoulders, placing an equally as soft kiss on her head. 

“He wasn’t feeling alright, but I made him go on the mission anyway.” Sara countered. 

“He chose to go on the mission of his own accord, you didn’t force him to do anything.” Ava pulled Sara up from the chair and turned her around to face her. “This is not your fault.”

Sara sighed and leaned into the offered hug that was presented before her. 

“I think we should head into bed,” Ava said. “Gideon will watch him.”

“Alright.” Sara nodded as the medbay doors closed behind them.

x-x-x

_Flashback_

_Mick had alerted the others as soon as John fell forward. The djinn was on the ground, unconscious with a pretty big wound on the back of its head. The exorcist in his arms wasn’t far behind either. He barely seemed to have a grip on consciousness already, sinking further to the floor until his knees hit the ground._

_Mick went down as well, being the only thing keeping John somewhat upright._

_“Damnit weasel!” Mick growled._

_John was slipping way too fast to a point of no return, and he knew it. But Mick wasn’t really good with this stuff, so he moved John backward until he got him to lay on his back._

_Just in time as well, because not a moment later, the rest of the team came running in._

_Mick couldn’t help but feel relieved that he put John down before the team came in, knowing they’d both never live it down if the others saw John cradled in his arms._

_Sara was the first to rush over, moving John’s matted hair off his forehead._

_His eyes were barely open and fluttering as he lost his grip on their reality. In the whites of his eyes were blue pulses of magic flowing in waves, visible for no more than a couple seconds before John’s eyes closed completely._

_The djinn’s tattoos suddenly glowed the same color of blue before fading away a moment later, signifying that John was indeed under the djinn’s spell._

_It was silent for a while after. Sara checked his pulse and found it a little weak, but there. Then ordered everyone back to the ship, nodding to Mick as the one to carry John back to the ship. Mona’s wolfie side would take the djinn._

_Mick grumbled but didn’t say anything as he picked up the warlock and draped him over his shoulder._

_“Idiot tripped over his own foot,” Mick explained on their walk back to the waverider. “Djinn took the opportunity.” He had shrugged._

_Everyone kept silent._

x-x-x

Sara awoke to a loud knock on her door. Grumbling, she rolled over and turned on the lights as Ava too, woke up from the sudden movement.

On the other end of the door, was Ray and Nora, looking like they both hadn’t slept in a while. 

“Sara, sorry to bother you, but I - we think we found something.” Ray eagerly said. 

Sara nodded as she and Ava followed them down the corridors. 

“So there’s good news and bad news.” Ray continued once they reached the medbay. John was exactly as Sara had left him. Asleep and impossibly still on the med chair. 

“The bad news is that we couldn’t find any spell to break the djinn’s spell,” Nora stated. “Apparently, it’s up to the victims to break out of the spells themselves, which is almost impossible because the djinn uses all types of magic to convince the victims that their fantasy world is real.” 

“The good news is that I think we can use cognitive intrusion to get him out.” Ray chipped in. “Like what you did with Rip when he was evil Rip.” 

“But we nearly got stuck in Rip’s mind, remember?” Sara reminded.

“Yes, but I improved the machine with Gideon’s help, and I think I’ve got it set to give you two hours instead of one.” 

“You think? What if you’re wrong?” Ava crossed her arms, obviously not liking this idea.

“Well -”

“I’ll do it.” Sara declared. 

“What? No, Sara, it’s too dangerous.” Ava turned to the side and faced Sara. “What if something goes wrong? I’m not losing you.”

“You won’t.” Sara took hold of Ava’s arms. “I promise. In and out.” 

Ava frowned. “Fine… But if anything goes wrong.”

“Ray will pull me out.”

Ray smiled in agreement and clapped his hands together. “Alrighty then! Legends - er well legend assemble!”

x-x-x

_Snap, pop, **crack.**_

Was the only thing Sara heard when she landed in John’s subconscious. She gasped and sat up, gathering her bearings and calming her breathing. She had made it. 

After Ray set up the machine, he gave Sara a new and improved wrist band with an added timer feature that would tell her when her time to leave was approaching. That along with the shock button and a two hour time limit left considerably more breathing room than when she had gone into Rip’s mind. But not by a lot. 

Looking around, Sara noticed it was quite different than Rip’s mind as well. First of all, she wasn’t in a darker version of the waverider, but in the middle of an empty street. The next thing she noticed was the street signs that told her she was in New Orleans. Or John’s version of New Orleans. 

It looked so real but felt so wrong. Maybe because it wasn’t her fantasy, but Sara could see blue magic lines in the air, weaving certain areas of her surroundings together until they formed something new. 

The djinn’s magic. 

A bang from a few dozen yards in front of her snapped her out of her observations. A man, who Sara would recognize as John’s previously possessed -- but then saved -- ex-boyfriend closed a door and started walking down the street. 

The pieces suddenly connected. John’s fantasy was his old life in New Orleans, where he lived with Desmond before all the demon shit went down. 

Sara walked towards the door and lightly knocked on it. Surely if Des -- who wasn’t actually real -- were here, then John would be close by right? At the very least, inside the apartment, she was knocking on. 

Her suspicions were confirmed when none other than John Constantine swung open the door, laughing about Des losing his keys before locking eyes with Sara. 

A moment of silence before: “Sara? What’re you doing in New Orleans?”

“I’ve uh been looking for you. Are you alright?” Sara scrambled over her words. John didn’t know he was in a fantasy world. She had to tread lightly as to not freak him out, and possibly injure himself or his brain in real life. 

“’m fine, luv. Great, in fact.” John stepped aside and let Sara walk into his apartment. 

_Crap, that’s what she was afraid of._

“That’s -- good. Anyway, I was hoping I could talk to you about some things.”

“Alright, have a seat then.” John shrugged. 

Sara sat on the couch in the living room while John poured two whiskey glasses and handed one to her.

“What’s happened then? Last I saw you lot, I dropped off a dragon head.” 

“And everything with the magical creatures, yes I remember.” Sara rushed. “What can you tell me about djinn’s?”

“Djinns? Nasty wankers.” John took a sip from his cup. “They trap people in their most desired fantasy and feed off their life force while they’re under.” 

“Yeah, got that. How would I wake someone up from their fantasy?” 

“Well, there isn’t really a spell for it if that’s what you’re asking. It’d be more of a process. Going inside the person’s mind and convincing them to reject the djinn’s magic and free themselves.”

Sara nodded.

“So which one of you bastards got stuck under?”

“You, John. You’re the one that’s under the djinn’s spell.” Sara set down her drink and stood up, approaching John who had gone wide-eyed, staring at her in disbelief. 

“Me?”

“Yes. We were on a mission to capture a djinn, and you got attacked.”

“I -” 

“I’m sorry, but everything you see here isn’t real. It’s all in your mind.” Sara grabbed John’s shoulders in a small attempt to shake him out of it. “Can’t you tell that somethings off?”

John stared at Sara, and Sara stared back. She gripped John’s shoulders even harder. 

“No.” John looked down. “No, no, no, no! Nothing is wrong, Sara, I’ve finally gotten a bloody good life!” 

Even though he denied it, Sara could see a flicker of realization in John’s eyes. 

“You _can_ sense it! You’re an exorcist, warlock thing; You’re John Constantine.”

“John Constantine is retired!” John stood up, walking around the couch. Sara followed, blocking his path. 

“To hell with that!”

“I’m happy here! 

“It’s not _real!_

They were both yelling now. 

“Just be happy for me!”

“John, you have to let it go!” 

**“NO!”**

“What’s going on here?!” A voice interrupted them. 

Both turned around to see Desmond standing in the doorway, arms full of grocery bags that were stuffed to the brim. 

“Who are you?” Des asked, looking pointedly at Sara. “Johnny?” 

“This is Sara, Des and she was just leaving.” John fixed a glare at Sara.

“Not without you, John.”

“Look, luv, I don’t know what’s gotten into you but -“ 

“John, this is just what the djinn wants you to think.” Sara crossed her arms and looked around for anything to prove it to him. 

“I know it’s hard to believe, but everything here is wrong!” Sara looked to Des and waved her hand at the bags he was holding. “Look, how would Des have bought all of these groceries in the three minutes that we’ve been talking, huh John?”

John opened his mouth to answer, but Sara continued. 

“Look around you! This isn’t right, and you know it! You have to remember it.”

Sara watched John’s eyes flick back and forth as he tried to regain his memories. 

A few minutes of silence before John visibly relaxed and raised his head. His eyes were a mixture of understanding and sadness. 

“What really happened to _this.”_ John waved his hand in a suggestion of his fantasy.

“Des got possessed by a demon called Neron.” Sara started to explain as Des’s voice warped in the background. 

“Johnny.”

“And to save New Orleans, you banished him to hell.” Sara locked eyes with John. 

“Johnny...”

“Neron with Des’s body escaped hell and came after you and the time bureau.”

“John?” Des’s voice was a fading whisper. 

“And you, along with Nora, Ray, and Nate banished Neron from Des’s body and saved him.”

“JOHNNY!” Des’s voice echoed through the void they were standing in. 

“But we broke up after anyway…” John finished.

Their surroundings were white now. No landscape to fill the empty void they saw. Just her, John and Desmond. 

“The mission we were on… None of this was real?” John mumbled. 

“I’m sorry, John.”

John smiled a crooked version of his original smile. “I guess that means I gotta break us outta here then?” 

Sara nodded, stepping back and letting him take care of the last thing that was keeping him there. 

There was silence between them before Des suddenly dropped to the floor, tightly hugging John’s waist. 

“Don’t leave - don’t leave me here, alone.” he pleaded. 

John clutched Des’s head, screwing his eyes shut. 

“‘M sorry… ’m so sorry, Des.” he shook his head in an attempt to get himself together but Sara could see the tears in his eyes. “But you aren’t the real Des.” 

John yanked Des’s grip off him and walked back to Sara, taking her hand. Both closed their eyes as the world faded around them. 

“Johnny, please. Johnny!” Des’s last words faded away into silence.

x-x-x

John gasped as he forced himself awake. He sat upright way too soon and felt his body sway a bit as he regained his surroundings. A comforting hand landed on his shoulder, steadying him.

Looking up, John met the worried faces of Ray, Nora, Ava, and Sara. 

“Welcome back,” Sara said with a small smile on her face. 

John smiled back as his heart ached with pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aye, it's the new chapter! Nearly two weeks late... Don't be fooled by the timestamp for the first chapter.. I posted the first chapter on the 16th not the 12th but for some reason the time stamp is off. 
> 
> I've also just returned from vacation so that's why this chapter is a bit late. Sorry! Next chapter should be on time next week. 
> 
> As always - Thanks for reading and I hope you've enjoyed it! :))


	3. Without you?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's back! But is he happy that he's back? Will he get the happy ending he wants?

_10:34 pm. The Waverider, Washington DC_

After one medical check-up by Gideon and two hours of his time, John was back in his room and tucked up in bed. As to Sara’s orders, of course. Right now, he’d rather be drinking bottles of whatever he could find while burying himself in spellbooks. 

Yet, here he was, tucked tightly under a mountain of blankets like a child, all because he had a bloody cough. 

Sure, he was on the verge of risking pneumonia, and since he’d hid his overall declining health in the first place, it was safe to say John wasn’t going to argue with a pissed off, Sara. 

Which left him where he was now. Staring at the top of the waverider's ceiling, unable to fall asleep. He wasn’t _going_ to fall asleep anytime in the future. 

_10:36 pm._

John mentally cursed his own brain. Of course, he had to get sentimental _now._ Nearly 2 months since he’d said his painful goodbye to Des in the Time Bureau and he still wasn’t over it. 

It was ridiculous! He was a grown man! He’d endured plenty of painful goodbyes with people just as important to him as Des so why the hell couldn’t he fall asleep?!

It was the Legends, John concluded. They were making him soft. _Vulnerable._ Two things he prided himself on never becoming. His job… His life would’ve killed him years ago, had he been like he was now. 

Slowly sitting up, John threw the bedsheets off and climbed out of bed; being mindful of his weak legs. 

All he needed was one visit. He didn’t even need to say anything to him. Just one quick glance to make sure -

“Mr. Constantine, I do not recommend doing what you are planning to do.” Gideon’s voice echoed over the ship’s comms.

“And why’s that Gideon?”

“I’m afraid your health is not adequate enough for you to accomplish this.”

“My health will be fine, Gideon. I just -” John ran a hand through his hair in a nervous tick. “I need to make sure he’s -- alright.”

“I can assure you, Mr. Laveau is fine-”

“Yeah, I’m just gonna see for me’self alright, Gideon luv.” John interrupted before lowering his voice to a whisper. “Please… I _need_ this.” 

Silence filled the air, making John afraid Gideon had ratted him out to Sara. The last thing he wanted was for Sara to find out he was leaving the ship without her permission. 

_Damn,_ he really was getting soft. 

“At least take these with you before you leave.” Gideon finally said. 

A puff of air from the other side of the room revealed a now open cabinet with two pills and a small water bottle inside. 

“Thanks.” John smiled. 

With that, John wrapped the time courier (Which he did not steal from the time bureau) around his wrist and popped the painkillers into his mouth. 

Looking around one last time, John opened a portal to his destination of New Orleans, 2019.

x-x-x

_9:40 pm. New Orleans._

As soon as John walked through the portal, he felt his legs buckle. Instinct made him reach out to hold onto the nearest thing possible to stop his fall. Apparently, the thing closest to him was a brick wall. 

John let go of the breath he was holding. 

While the pills did take time to take effect, they would also do little to dull the ache he felt. Which is why he had to sit down on top of a wooden crate in the middle of the alley and catch his breath. The sudden change in time and place did nothing to help his headache and John couldn’t help but think he should’ve waited until he felt better. Or at least until the painkillers actually started working. 

He waited for the ringing in his ears to stop only to be met with the annoying sound continuing endlessly. Looking up, John realized it was because New Orleans was undergoing a torrential rainstorm. 

That would be a problem, John realized as he looked out into the storm. He really didn’t want to walk the distance to Des’s apartment in the pouring rain with no protection. 

He was already there though and uncomfortable or not, he was going to go through with what he had planned to do. 

Though John quickly realized his plan would end up going a bit into the gutter as he hadn’t actually planned on what to do once he arrived.

What was he going to do? He didn’t want to knock on the door and confuse Des. Which would probably get them into another fight on top of that... 

He also couldn’t just look through Des’s windows to see him without being noticed. That was a stalker level John didn’t need to stoop to. 

It was foolish, John realized. He was foolish. He shouldn’t have stopped by in the first place. With the rain, he was definitely going to get more sick and then he’d have to deal with an even more pissed off Sara.

John laughed in pity at himself until he started coughing his lungs out. 

The weather was definitely not helping his health. 

Once the fit subsided, John stood up and got off the box with shaky legs. He was cold all of a sudden, but it felt like he was sweating. Not a good sign. He was about to finish typing in the waverider’s location into the time courier when a voice from the down the end of the alley stopped him dead in his tracks. 

“John?”

He knew that voice. And he damn well knew who it belonged to, but he couldn’t bring himself to look. 

“Is that you?” The voice was getting closer. Despite the loud sounds of the rain, John could hear footsteps coming towards him. He _still_ didn’t dare to turn around — or move. 

“Hey.” The voice stopped just a few feet away from him, and John still couldn’t bring himself to move. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest as his flight or fight response started hammering away in his already aching head. 

_Flight_ or **fight?**

**Fight** or _flight?_

John turned around. 

And there he was. A few feet in front of him was the man he’d spent the best months of his life with. The man who he’d made an entire fantasy life with while he was in a magic coma. The man whose life he had probably ruined…

Neither of them said a word. 

John stared at Des, and Des stared back. 

What were probably minutes felt like hours to him until finally - 

“What’re you doing here?” Des asked in a tense voice. 

John shivered. He couldn’t tell which was colder. The rain or Des’s voice. 

John cleared his throat before answering. “Just thought I’d visit the city…” 

“When did you arrive?” 

_A couple of seconds ago,_ John almost said. Instead, he shrugged, taking more interest in his shoes.

Des came closer. “You don’t know when you arrived?”

“Look, I don’t keep the bloody time, mate. With all the time traveling and shit, I can’t keep track of it anymore...” 

“I just thought I’d come to see the city again.” John continued. “But it looks like the weather would beg to differ, so I’ll just head back to bureau inste-“ John turned back around mid-sentence to make his great escape. 

“Hold it.” Des interrupted. His hand had latched onto John’s shoulder, stopping him dead in his tracks and feeling as if he would have a heart attack. 

“Look at me,” Des commanded. And look, John did. Right into those beautiful eyes, he had missed so much. 

“Why are you really here?” He asked. 

_Why? Because I was worried, something might’ve happened to you while I was gone. Because I’ve had a long hard day and want to be with someone I care about. Because I just missed you so damn much!_

John scoffed. “Fine, you got me, mate! I just wanted to make sure you were alright..”

“Alright…” Des looked down for a moment before whipping his head back up to stare at John. His eyes were filled with fury. “Alright?! It’s been 2 months, and _now_ you’re asking me if I’m alright?!” 

John shuddered, his ears ringing from the intensity of Des’s voice bouncing off the walls of the alley. 

“We defeated Neron. Thought I’d popped by, let you know.” 

“No, you didn’t.” 

“You defeated Neron over a week ago. If you really wanted to tell me, you would’ve done so already.” 

“The Livestream?”

“Yeah…” Des slumped his shoulders from their tensed position. “Looks like I’m not the only one who died for the sake of defeating your demon.”

John winced at the cold remark. “It was either one person or the millions of people that live in New Orleans. I hated it, but I made that decision.”

“You killed me.” 

“Because I had no choice.”

“You could’ve _not_ killed me!”

“And let the demon possessing you loose on the streets of _New Orleans?_ I may be a bastard, but I wasn’t about to let that happen!” 

“So you’re saying you killed me in an act of love for the world?”

“No, I’m saying I killed the guy I loved in favor of a world I hate because it was my damn job! I warned you that I’d get you hurt one day, but you didn’t listen.”

Des scoffed at this. “I listened to every damn word you said.”

“Says the guy who stupidly sold his soul to a demon for someone who doesn’t bloody well deserve it!” John snapped. 

John took a breath as Des’s expression softened at his outburst. 

“You’re right. I shouldn’t have sold my soul. I should’ve trusted you to handle it, but instead, I felt like being your hero and saving you from a fate I can’t control.” Des sat on the box and gestured for John to sit as well. It took a minute of comprehension, but John stepped forward and sat on another box near Des. “I just — I don’t know. I didn’t want to see you hurt.” Des continued. 

“I didn’t think -- no I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it if you’d died and I’d just helplessly know you were being tortured in hell for all eternity. I - I wouldn’t be able to do it.”

John lowered his gaze to the floor. He hated seeing Des upset, especially when it was his fault. 

“So I tried to be your hero for once and save you. Load of good that did me…” Des quipped. 

“I don’t deserve that.” 

“Would you stop saying that?!” Des suddenly yelled. He jumped off the box and stood directly in front of John. “God, every time with you! Do you really think that low of yourself? That you deserve to be tormented for the rest of time after you die? Because, news flash, John Constantine! You _don’t_ deserve that!” 

“How can you say that? I damned _you_ to hell!” John countered back. They were back to yelling again. 

“Because of a dumb decision _I_ made! And you saved me!”

“That doesn’t make the other things I’ve done, right again!”

“It also doesn’t mean you should be tortured for being the one to make the tough decisions! For being so brave and taking action when no one else wanted to. _For saving the world._ ” Des’s voice softened. 

Both took deep breaths before John continued in a hushed voice. 

“But I’ve hurt so many people, including you. You’d be better off -” 

“With you, than without you.” Des finished as his hand reached out and wiped John’s matted hair off his forehead. Instinctively, John reached out to the touch like he craved it. 

Des chuckled and cupped John’s cheek. “Can’t we just settle this by agreeing that we’re both idiots…And maybe we can start over again?” 

“I don’t - I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“You won’t. This time, I know not to sell my soul to any demons.”

“But my job it’s -” 

“Dangerous and risky. I know that too.” 

John gave Des a look. 

“Come on, cut me some slack, I did spend _some_ time in hell.” 

John’s face fell at the mention of it. But Des quickly rebounded.

“We’ll be careful this time,” Des said, pulling John up to stand and steadying him when he swayed a little. 

Tilting his head up, Des looked at John as John looked at him. They both closed the distance between them. John felt a wave of hope wash over him as Des leaned his face closer to his, only stopping when their foreheads met. 

“Is this alright -- can I?” Des asked in a soft whisper. 

“Yes… please.”

x-x-x

_9:55 pm. New Orleans_

How long it had been since all talking ceased; John didn’t know. What felt like 2 glorious hours was most likely only two minutes. All he knew was that heaven was real and that it was right in front of him, pressing his lips against his own in a desperate and fiery attempt to make up for the two months they had lost. 

Two minutes in real-time, two minutes of euphoria. Two minutes without taking a breath…

Des was the first to break, gasping like a fish out of water. It made John smile at the memories of doing that to him ages ago. Now he could do it all again. 

They were back together. Faces pressed up against each other as their lips danced with one another. Des’s hands held onto John’s coat as he pushed John backward into the wall behind them. 

Another pause for breath and Des finally spoke. 

“Mm, you’re hot” Des murmured into their next kiss. 

“Thanks, luv. I missed you too.” 

Des briefly smiled at the so John-esque comment before letting his worry take over again. Being so close to him made it impossible to ignore the heat that was coming off of John’s skin. He knew there was a difference between being flushed and being flushed from fever. John never got flushed or flustered when it came to romantics, so the only option was the latter. That and the worrying sound of John’s slight wheeze as he caught his breath after every kiss. 

“No, I mean..” Des placed his hand on John’s forehead, stopping the kisses John was peppering on Des' lips. It was hot and damp from sweat even though it was cold and raining. “You have a fever, you idiot.”

Johns' face turned sour as he pouted. “Don’t tell me that’s gonna ruin the nights plans.”

“I’d rather take care of you than have sex with you when you're sick.” Des chuckled.

“Maybe a good shag is just what I need to get better.” 

“I’m thinking more ibuprofen, rest and a hot bath.”

“Hmm. Sounds nice.”

“Johnny?”

John sagged into Des’s grip as his head started clouding over. His head found a comfortable place on Des’s shoulder as he completely relaxed into his hold. He felt so cold, but Des was so hot. In more ways than one... 

“- u’re warm.” John murmured as he let his eyes slip closed. When did he get this tired? Maybe it was all the energy he expended arguing... Or the rain! Definitely the rain.

“John, wait.”

“Hmm? For wha-”

“Johnny?” Des whispered. “Can I catch whatever you have?” 

John smiled. That was so like Des. Worrying about every little detail…

“Nah, Gideon sai- I washh past -hat.”

“Good. Good…” Des sighed in relief. “Do you think you can still walk or?”

No answer. 

“Johnny?” Des turned his head a little to see John’s eyes closed and skittering behind his eyelids. His breath came out a bit labored but even, telling Des that the sick time-traveling warlock had just fallen asleep in his arms. Or passed out, but Des didn’t want to think about that.

“Come on, let’s get you out of this crap weather,” Des muttered, mainly to himself, knowing that John was too out of it to hear him, much less understand him. Slowly but surely, Des maneuvered John into a better position so that he could successfully pick him up onto his back and carry him to his apartment. 

Once comfortable, Des started walking back home, making a mental note to hurry up once they were out of the protection of the roofed alley they were in. He had already pulled his jacket onto John to keep him warm which got him a moan of contentedness from the otherwise unresponsive warlock. 

The apartment was only a few blocks away. They would make it.

x-x-x

_10:21 pm. New Orleans_

As soon as Des kicked in the door to his apartment, he immediately set John down on the bed and stripped him of his soaked clothes. He had tried to stay out of the rain as much as possible, but there were only so many protected areas. John hadn’t gotten better during the walk, nor had he woken up. His body had started to shake with cold despite the heat it was radiating, and every time Des accidentally jostled John in an attempt to keep him from sliding off his back, he got a pained groan in response. 

It worried Des to no end. He had never seen John so sickly before. Sure, he had caught a few colds while they were going out from not taking care of himself, but John had always shrugged them off and promised to take it easier. And he did. Now Des was rushing around his apartment faster than he did in his own restaurant, looking for extra blankets, medicine, heating pads, cooling wraps, and a bucket, just in case. 

After he tucked John into a tight cocoon, he plugged in the heating pad to warm up and went to the kitchen to grab a cold towel he had stuffed in the fridge with some ice cubes and water. 

Des returned a few minutes later, cold washcloth and water in hand, to see John slumped in the pillows, his half-lidded eyes watching him. 

“Hey.” Des smiled, relieved that John was up and seemingly coherent. 

“H-ey bak.” John tried to say as his scratchy throat attempted to cut him off. 

“Does anything hurt. Do you need anything?”

John was hesitant before answering. “ ‘m throat urts.” 

“Ok, anything else?”

“Hea - head.” John roughly coughed. 

“Have you taken anything recently?” 

“Painkillers... Gideon hooked me up with her meds.” 

“That’s good. I’ll wait to give you any more medicine then.” Des sat on the bed next to John and reached over for the thermometer on the nightstand. “Can I take your temperature?” Des asked, waving the tiny stick in John’s line of sight. 

John nodded and opened his mouth for Des. Once settled under his tongue, Des took the melting washcloth and started gliding it over John’s overheated head. 

John’s eyes closed under the touch he had craved for so long. 

A minute later and John was nearly asleep when the thermometer beeped in his mouth. John slowly pulled his eyes open as Des took the stick out of his mouth and looked at it. 

“103.2.” Des sighed.

“ ‘m sorry.” John grimaced. 

“No, no, you’re fine. Just need to sleep it off.” Des gently stroked his hand through John’s hair. “You’ll be fine.” 

“Mmm.” John sank further into the covers, fully intending to absorb all of their warmth. He heard Des laugh before the sound of rustling filled his ears. Then a dip on the opposite side of the bed appeared, and suddenly Des was in front of him, smiling his beautiful smile. 

“You’ll wake me if you feel worse?” 

John nodded.

“And there’s a bucket on your side of the bed, water on the nightstand, and a heating pad next to you.” 

John tiredly nodded, flashing a smile of his own. 

He closed his eyes while Des scooted closer to him, wrapping his arms around his waist. 

John opened his mouth to try and say something but was caught by a rough coughing fit. Des rubbed his back and helped him get comfortable again underneath the blankets. 

“It’s alright, I’ll be here when you wake,” Des said. 

John opened his mouth again and finally got the words out. 

“I love you.” 

He felt Des affectionately kiss his neck before he answered. 

“Love you too, Johnny.” 

John smiled as he finally fell into a peaceful sleep.

x-x-x

_11:45 pm. The Waverider, Washington DC._

Sara walked down the quiet hall into the main room where the lights turned themselves on in favor of letting her see. 

“Gideon, I just got a call from Ava at the time bureau. Apparently one of the time couriers is offline, do you happen to know anything about this?” Sara asked in a lower voice as to not alert anyone else on the ship. 

“I do captain,” Gideon answered back. 

“Ok, so where is he?” Sara cut straight to the point. She had gone to check on John a few minutes ago and found him missing. She knew Gideon would’ve alerted her if John were trying to leave the ship unless she let him off in secret. 

“I’m afraid I cannot disclose Mr. Constantine’s location.” 

“And why not?”

“I have been given strict orders to leave Mr. Constantine alone for the next few days.”

_Yeah right._ Sara thought. 

“Do you know what he’s doing?” 

“I do not know what he is doing exactly at this mo-” 

“Gideon, I’m going to stop you right there and take a wild guess that John is in New Orleans.” Sara interrupted. “Am I right?” 

“You are correct, Captain.” 

“Fine, let him know when we’re leaving again.” Sara threw her hands up in the air before turning around to go back to her room where Ava was waiting. 

“Will do captain.” 

“Oh and Gideon?” 

“Yes, captain?” 

“Please, don’t lie to your captain again,” Sara smirked before walking down the hall again. 

“... Yes, captain.” Gideon’s voice echoed behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAyyyyy!! Happy Ending! Wahooo!!! *fireworks* :D
> 
> That is the end of this chaptered fic. I told you didn't I? This was just one long getting back together fic with lots of plot. 
> 
> As always. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this! :)

**Author's Note:**

> Ahh cliffhangers.. Everyone's mortal enemy when reading. 
> 
> For the djinn, I'm using the lore from Supernatural to explain what it does. Wanna know more? Search "Supernatural Djinn," in google. Also I have no sense of maps or places and I have no idea whether or not there are mines in Garrett County Maryland so I'm really sorry if that's incorrect... I'm also on vacation so editing this fic without my own computer in another country was difficult af. Hope it's alright!
> 
> SPOILER This is basically a John and Des getting back together fic with lots of plot. BECAUSE I CAN ALRIGHT?!
> 
> Next chapter will be up soon, don't worry and THANK YOU SO MUCH for reading this far! Hope you enjoyed it! :D


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